Erika could not figure Idina out. It was bugging her. She showered Erika with gifts, even though there was nothing to gain. There had to be an angle, a ploy, something that Erika was missing. This was all for publicity like Lily had said. That was it, that's what she had been missing. This wasn't going to last. Nothing did.

It was almost worse, that they were nice to her. It made her feel bad that she was taking their things, eating their food, letting them spend all this money on her. If they were mean, she could rationalize using them for food and shelter as long as she could, but Idina, in particular, was just so nice.

Nice. That was all. Not good. Nice was an act.

One day the act would fall. 

If Erika played her cards right, she could get away with clothes that fit and maybe some hair ties. But she could not be sure. Since Idina had bought them for her, they weren't personal items. Nothing was hers unless she came to the home with it, and even them most guardians did not care. Unless it was something to social worker knew without a doubt belonged to you, they'd let the guardian keep it for simplicity. 

So Erika, despite desperately wanting too, could not get used to this. One day it will all disappear and she will have nothing and she will have to know how to live without. 

But if publicity was the goal, why had she bothered to try and cover Erika's face when the paparazzi had swarmed them at the airport? Everyone knew her face anyways, or at least the old picture of her that had been circulating the media. 

She watched Idina closely, trying to figure out the puzzle.

She could so easily go along with it, get everything she'd ever wanted. But for some reason, she did not want to pretend. And she did not want to risk getting attached. The boy was already too much. He'd latched on to her like a leech. She did not want to make him think she'd stay. Erika was many things, but she was not that cruel.

But that did not explain why she felt so guilty. When Idina gave her and Walker chocolate bars and chips after they'd been seated, or when she'd let Erika take the window seat even though she did not care. Or when Idina sat down beside her and offered to let her use her phone to read or play games to pass the time. 

Erika had declined, of course. 

But she felt guilty doing that too.

She'd never felt guilty for anything. When people gave her scraps, she accepted it without a fuss. Unless she knew there would be a hefty price. But she never felt guilty before. 

It had to be because they were acting so nice. They acted like they believed it would work, and since they were actors, they were making her believe it. And she felt guilty for playing along because she knew she was lying to them. But why should she care? All of this was a game, a lie, a trick. 

The plane started to take off, hurtling down the runway, shaking. 

Erika stiffened. She had been on a plane once before when she six. She had not liked it.

Until last night, she'd never had to think about ever being on one again. Now she was trapped in one, hurling towards the atmosphere. And Idina was beside her, her son and husband across the aisle.

She was going to die next to the one person in the world she wanted nothing to do with. 

She felt her chest begin to tighten. Airplanes were not supposed to fly. Has anyone really ever looked at them? There was no way they could fly safely. 

She felt the pressure hit her as the wheels left the ground. Erika closed her eyes and swallowed.

At least she would die with a full stomach and not under a bridge somewhere, starved or murdered. That was quite a step up. She would thank Idina in heaven, if such a place existed, and she was somehow deemed worthy enough to go. 

Something grabbed at her hand and she flinched away, then looking over to see Idina gazing at her with concerned eyes. 

"It's okay," she said in that soft tone. She took Erika's hand again and squeezed it.

Erika shook her head. It would not be okay. How did she know it would be okay? She nearly blew up the microwave this morning. And now she was telling Erika that she knew this plane would not be their death sentence?  She had no idea what she was doing.

"It will be okay," Idina said again. "Airplanes are very safe."

That was a lie if she'd ever heard one. 

Idina pulled her to her chest, holding her tightly. She stocked her hair and whispered into her ear.

Erika was still breathing quickly. We'rent you supposed to stay sitting up during take-off and landing? If they crashed now she could get hurt because Idina was comforting her.

Idina was comforting her. She suddenly relaxed. 

Idina was comforting her.

There was something so strange about that sentence. Stange and calming and-

The planned dipped. Erika was not the only one to let out a gasp as her insides lurched upwards.

No, this was not safe.

Idina held her tighter, trying to soothe her shaking form. Erika felt gentle lips press against her hair. She wanted to cry.

She was not going to though, not in front of anyone, especially Idina. 

The plane dropped again and she let out an audibly cry.

"It's just turbulence," Idina said. "There's always a lot around here. Don't worry, it will be over soon."

Erika buried her face in her hands and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Focus on my voice."

She did as she was told.

Idina just spoke, nothing profound. She told her first that she travelled by plane a lot, and this was fine and normal. Then she started to talk about her tours, what it was like signing in front of millions of people. And when that was over she just started to make up stories. They were silly and nonsensical. Walker and Aaron chimed in from across the row. All the while, Idina did not stop stroking her hair or rubbing her back. Anything to take her mind off of how high they were. 

And after what seemed like an eternity, the rattling stopped and seatbelt sign grew dim with a small beep.

Erika felt her shoulders relax the smallest bit, but she did not move. She wanted too, but she didn't.

"It's over for now," Idina said. "It's just over," she reiterated quickly as if she was hoping that Erika had not heard the "for now".

Erika had. 

Idina gently moved one of her hands from her face and held it. 

"See, nothing bad happened."

Erika did not open her eyes. She was still shaking.

Slowly, Erika came back to the world. She felt so embarrassed. No else was panicking. No one else had buried their face in their hands like a five-year-old. 

Erika tried to sit up. "Sorry," she exclaimed as her elbow jabbed Idina.

"It's fine," Idina said, guiding her back up to a sitting position. "God, you're pale." She reached for Erika's face, pressing the backs of her finger to her cheek. "I didn't realize you were such a nervous flier," she rambled on, "I would have done something or..." she trailed off.

"it's fine," Erika said. "You didn't know."

"Hey, don't cry," the star said, wiping a tear from Erika's nose.

Erika had been crying? She wiped her own eye and stared at her fingers when they came back damp. 

"See, everything will be fine." Erika did not believe her, yet she nodded stiffly. "I promise," Idina said. 

She eased Erika back into a sitting position, only this time she took the girl's hand.

"I'm right here," the star said. "Nothing bad will happen while I'm here. And," she reached over Erika to the window, closing it, "you can close that and just pretend like your on the buss."

Busses are far safer than planes, she thought.

"On the bright side, you've made it past the hour mark."

"How many are left?" she stammered.

"Just over four."

Erika sat back in her seat, clutching Idna's hand. Just over four hours left. She tried, and failed, not to think about it.